


The Warm Room

by brokenkakugan



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen, Hospitals, Nightmares, Post-Promised Day, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 11:04:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11667846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenkakugan/pseuds/brokenkakugan
Summary: For a moment, a fleeting moment, he almost wishes he was back in the armor.Takes place between the aftermath of the Promised Day and when Al and Ed go home to Resembool.





	The Warm Room

**Author's Note:**

> I've been literally dying for more al-recovery fics so uhhh I wrote one myself kinda
> 
> inspired by this sweet ass amv that i can't stop watching https://youtu.be/SV8vM-mo6ws

He wakes with a start, sucking in the warm air of the hospital room and propping himself up on his elbows and it hurts, pulling uncomfortably at his weak muscles. The room is dark save for the bit of light streaming in from nearby sodium lights. He can't seem to get enough oxygen into his lungs. He clutches at his throat as he gasps and wheezes pitifully, short, dull nails scratching at sensitive skin.  
  
Alphonse flops back onto the bed, bringing a trembling and frail-looking hand up to run his fingers through recently shortened hair. His eyes are squeezed shut and he's suddenly aware of how impossibly fast his heart is beating. It almost _hurts_. He's still short of breath, unable to soothe himself as his throat tightens and hot tears burn behind closed lids.   
  
_It's too much._  
  
He chews on the inside of his cheek as he bites back a sob, images from his latest dream, _his nightmare_ , floating through his mind. He feels his chest tighten and his throat close when he remembers himself, his view from the armor, the emotionless face he wore for **YEARS**. In his dream, he was flashing between the two bodies, between cold and unfeeling and warm and hypersensitive. Panic and nausea rise in his throat, but all that escapes is a small, breathless whimper. It feels louder than it really is.  
  
For a moment, a fleeting moment, he almost wishes he was back in the armor, back in the unfeeling world where he wasn't overwhelmed by physical feelings and emotions and hormones. He chases that thought away just as quickly as it came, shame burning in his chest and spreading over his face.  
  
Alphonse sits up once again, peering over to his neighbor's bed. His big brother is still sound asleep, the covers kicked off as he sprawls out as much as he can in the rather small bed. Edward looks as peaceful and gentle as he always does in his sleep. Alphonse swallows thickly, a tear dripping down his cheek; he opens his mouth to say something, to wake the other, but nothing comes out. He closes his mouth again, suddenly glad that words fail him. _"It wouldn't be fair to wake him,"_ he chastises himself. _"Brother's just as tired as I am."_  
  
While not entirely true, he justifies his own actions, or rather, lack of actions, with the thought. He lays back on the pillow once more, covering his wet eyes with a skinny, bony arm. He sucks in a few more shaky breaths and feels pathetic at his inability to self-soothe. _"Brother dealt with nightmares for years and years, and he still probably is; he knows how to make himself go back to sleep, so I just need to learn how, too."_  
  
Alphonse pulls his arm back and wipes carefully at his eyes. When Edward suddenly snores loudly in the next bed over, he's glad for the nurse that thought to clip his nails short or else he most likely would've scratched his own eye out with the way he jumps. He looks over at his brother, who is now laying with a cheek pressed against the pillow, facing him. He's starting to drool on the pillow.  
  
The binding in Alphonse's chest seems to loosen, the constriction fading as he looks on fondly. His throat doesn't feel so tight and painful anymore. The adoration and pride he feels for his big brother has been hitting him in waves over the past few days. He's always been there, always nearby, always a constant presence in his life. Edward's soft snores have a strange affect on him, reminding him with white noise that he's not alone.  
  
And then it dawns on him, making his eyes water again; his nights aren't being spent alone anymore. He doesn't have to be alone ever again. The tears spill over his cheeks for the second time that night, this time with relief. Sleep follows soon after.

**Author's Note:**

> flexes my puny writing muscles for the first time all year
> 
> I wrote this all on my phone


End file.
